


All That Touchy-Feely Stuff

by One_Eyed_Cat



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24243799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Eyed_Cat/pseuds/One_Eyed_Cat
Summary: A series of one shots exploring the deepening feelings between Nick Torres and Ellie Bishop. Starting from the end of Season 14 and moving through the series with episode tags for each one-shot. Also posted on FanFiction!
Relationships: Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	1. Paraguay

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! I'm new to AO3 but have been on fanfiction for awhile (lost access to my old account however D:) so let me know if there are any confusions!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Of all the things that had happened the past year, all those attempts to talk, it was her crying that broke through."

The SEAL's wife met them at the terminal, accompanied by an NCIS escort. Undoubtedly, they'd have a few more stops to make before home. Nick nodded goodbye to the fellow agent as the couple embraced, then turned away without a second glance. He scanned the terminal for Bishop, who had texted that she would pick him up.

She was standing by one of the bay windows, where the sunset was a painting of soft orange and pink. He weaved his way through passing travelers to meet her, a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach as he realized things might get emotional.

The sunset caught in her hair, and her face was bathed in a golden hue, giving her an almost angelic quality. Despite his worries, he allowed himself to admit that she was a sight for sore eyes. He had missed her, now more than ever, and was glad it was Ellie who had come to get him. Nick thought briefly if he was supposed to hug her, considering the circumstances. He came to a stop in front of her, found himself feeling more uncomfortable than anything else, and decided against it.

"So, what's going on?" He tried. She didn't respond immediately, though it was clear she had something to tell him. He briefly entertained the idea that she was just as angry with him as he was with himself for leaving Paraguay without the others.

"I'm parked in the garage." Ellie informed him. He felt a twinge of anger that she didn't answer his question, but before he could voice it she had already turned away from him to walk briskly towards the exit. Nick caught up quickly and fell into step beside her. She didn't even glance at him.

The walk was painfully silent, which only served to fuel his anger. He had spent the entire flight waiting to hear a plan, having gone over every possibility in his head already. Plus, it wasn't like her to be silent. In fact, she was usually trying to get him to talk. Nick had told her everything before leaving Paraguay however, there was no more to say. Besides, he fumed inwardly, she hasn't updated me on anything yet.

When they got to her car, Bishop crossed to the drivers side but stopped suddenly. He followed suit and turned to face her, the trunk of the car between them.

"Nick…" She began, meeting his gaze at last.

He knew by her voice that she was going to ask him how he was feeling. He'd heard the tone plenty of times after their more jarring cases. Perhaps she was going to tell him how she was feeling, too. Perhaps all that pressuring from the team to open up would help him feel better after all.

He was honest enough with himself to admit he didn't want to feel better. He wanted to be angry.

"What's the plan?" He demanded. She reeled back at his forcefulness, but recovered quickly. The emotion remained however, and her eyes slid away from his in favor of a scuff in the paint on the trunk. She reached a hand up to the imperfection and traced it with a finger.

"There's nothing we can-" Ellie started, her tone detached. It was his turn to recoil. He hadn't thought she was the kind to just give up.

"What? They're not dead." He burst.

"I know th-" She tried again.

"They're too valuable-"

"Nick, please-"

"-Information, ransom-"

"Nick, I agree with you!" She pounded her hand against the car as she shouted over him.

"Then what are we waiting for!" He shouted back. He moved to her side of the car as he did so and glared down at her.

She followed his movements with an equally heated gaze, and guilt pricked at him as he saw tears in her eyes. That same painful silence descended again, but he resisted the urge to break it. She was breathing more heavily now, and broke eye contact with him in favor of the scuff in the paint once more. He couldn't help but watch her fingers move across it.

She knows something.

"DoD has the lead now. In fact, NCIS is about to be investigated over the incident." Bishop sniffed and wiped at her face with the sleeve of her free hand. She swallowed hard, voice breaking, but continued. "I tried to ask some contacts at the NSA about chatter in the area, but Vance said if NCIS gets caught snooping there'll be more red tape then there already is."

"We're in the dark." Nick concluded.

"They're out there, and we can't even help find them." Ellie choked out. Tears were spilling down her cheeks and collecting at her chin, and Nick's anger ebbed at last in favor of empathy. With its absence, fear started to creep up on him. McGee and Gibbs were stranded, and there was nothing he could do.

Ellie sniffled again, bringing him back to the present. He didn't like being genuine with his emotions, eight years of undercover work tended to make that difficult, but he knew it wouldn't be right to just wait for her to stop crying. Nick forced himself into hesitant action, and reached out to put a comforting hand over hers. He went rigid when she closed the gap between them, arms going inside his jacket as she sought comfort. They were tight around his torso before he knew what had happened.

He knew he should be hugging her back, especially considering the very un-Bishop behavior, but all he could feel was incredibly awkward. Sure, when he went on a date he could hug and kiss the girl all night, but none of it was emotional. The family dynamic the team held only made the stakes feel higher, and he simply did not know how to react to her touch. He certainly didn't know how to express himself without the underlying agenda of a mission to work with. For the first time since the start of his career, he wished desperately that he hadn't cultivated that aspect of his personality so thoroughly.

The warmth of physical contact must have affected him however, because he decided it really was best to just put his arms around her. He relaxed slightly into the hug after a moment, finding it fairly easy to provide comfort when he didn't have to say anything. Of all the things that had happened the past year, all those attempts to talk, it was her crying that broke through.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, taking in their surroundings on instinct, and held her a little more tightly. Ellie's fingers were cool compared to the warmth of his jacket, and he closed his eyes to focus on them. He felt a rush of affection for her, immediately accompanied by a burst of fear that shortened his breath, and the brief moment was over. The touch once again felt overwhelming and invasive, and he relaxed his grip on her. Ellie took the hint and stepped away.

"Thanks." She acknowledged with a slightly embarrassed glance in his direction.

Nick missed her touch immediately, now feeling both confused and uncomfortable, but she was already turning towards the car door, and he went back around to the passenger side so that they could get in together.

"I've got an idea." Ellie said suddenly.

"There she is." Nick smiled. She caught his eye as she started the engine, and he was relieved that things didn't feel awkward anymore.


	2. High Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Really, it had just been the principle of it. He'd stood there like an idiot the first time she kissed him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goes without saying that I don't own these characters or NCIS :)

Nick rolled over for the utmost time in bed, his sore ribs still complaining from the slightest pressure. Despite the pain, he was reluctant to leave the warmth of his comforter for any painkillers. Although, the walk might help to stop his mind from reeling. It wasn't anything in particular about the case that was keeping him awake.

Really.

_"So... Just go take out the trash?" Bishop, Charlie he reminded himself, drawled as she slammed the van door shut. Mitchell held up his hand as instruction for her to wait. The other woman was still screaming her head off inside, and Nick was impressed that Ellie didn't even flinch._

_His partner leaned against the vehicle beside him with an almost bored sigh, and laced her fingers through his as easily as if she had done it a hundred times. She was a natural._

Or maybe it just felt natural, he mused indulgently. He quickly dismissed the thought by at last pulling the covers off of himself and pressing his feet to the cold floor. The need for pain killers had won out at last.

_He pulled their joined hands upwards so he could kiss the back of her hand. She leaned more securely into him after that, and he couldn't help the little thrill that ran up and down his spine as she did so._

So what if he enjoyed playing a couple with Ellie, that wasn't a crime was it?

And it certainly didn't mean anything.

_"Yeah. Meet us back here at five." Mitchell turned expectantly towards her, gesturing that she should get going. She nodded, and Nick started to let go of her hand so she could comply. After all, this would be their first opportunity in hours to contact Gibbs. He had scarcely turned away from her before she tightened her grip._

_"I ain't said good-bye yet, baby." She had that same voice from the storefront, low and seductive, but Nick was ready for it this time._

Really, it had just been the principle of it. He'd stood there like an idiot the first time she kissed him.

_He turned back to her, closing the distance by pulling her to him by the hand. He felt a rush of satisfaction at the slightly surprised look in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that impish grin that was all Charlie. Her other hand was at his chest immediately, and his arm was going around her waist, and she was fisting her hand into his shirt, pulling him down to her..._

Nick popped open the bottle of aspirin, now trying very hard not to reminisce. He swallowed the pills dry and padded back to the bedroom, determined to think no more of it. It wasn't his fault that it was so pervasive in his mind. It could all be chalked up to the fact that he had missed being undercover. As far as focusing on Bishop, it had just been an oddity to not be going in alone. Ellie had been the first person to go under with him in years. The idea of a partner, after all those years alone, was just hard to adjust to.

Especially when she was insanely hot.

Not that she was _his_ type.

Perhaps just one more recollection of it and his mind would be done with the memory...

_Her lips were soft against his, cool and compelling, and he wondered momentarily is she had intended the kiss to be as brief as the previous one. Just as he was about to pull away, she bit his bottom lip and all thoughts of ending it were forgotten. He tightened his grip on her, slipping into the moment, and her mouth pulled into a smile against his. He knew they should be keeping it brief, knew distraction was never a friend when undercover, but he deepened the kiss anyways when she sighed. He also found himself unwilling to release her hand, despite the increasing intensity. In fact, it felt much better to squeeze it. And even better when she squeezed back._

He didn't mean anything by all that hand holding of course. It was just that Charlie and Luis were in love, and it was the little things that really sold it when undercover.

_A few seconds was quickly stretching towards thirty, and Nick was starting to wonder if she intended to stop kissing him at all. Just as a grin was stretching across his lips at the thought, Mitchell cleared his throat and Ellie pulled away._

_Nick followed her for a moment before catching himself, forcing his eyes open. Her brown eyes were alight with the thrill of the thing, and Nick realized with a worrying amount of disappoint that Ellie was simply selling the role._

_"If you're done?" Mitchell ground out before storming out of the room._

_"Sorry. Just so hard to resist." Ellie smirked. Nick scarcely remembered to close his mouth as he watched her get into the van and slammed it without a second look. She was definitely enjoying being undercover a little too much. Nick recomposed himself, and caught Donnie's eye from the corner of the room._

_"You are one lucky son of a bitch." Donnie grinned. "I'd kill for a girl who still treats me like that after a few years."_

Nick grimaced as the reminder of the drug lord cut through the memory. Donnie had gone for a soft spot in the car, trying to catch Nick off guard by implying he was a sucker for his partner. Admittedly, it had worked.

As a distraction, of course.

As he rolled onto his back, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to date someone like Ellie, even if he wasn't interested in the slightest. He allowed himself a moment of contemplation as he watched city lights play across the ceiling from the window. She was beautiful of course, smart, and he couldn't deny he liked getting her to laugh. Plus, there was nothing like messing with her. She was a loyal friend, and had the worrying quality of getting him to talk about things.

Alright, so she was a catch. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her brothers she wasn't his type, however. Someone like Ellie tended to stick around, and sticking around meant emotions, and emotions were not for Nick Torres.

So, she wasn't his type.

But, admittedly, he had a crush on her anyways.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Actually Jack, Nick hangs out around Bishop's desk a lot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Nick got made fun of for hanging out at Ellie's desk.

"Augh, Bishop, don't these get old?" Nick's whine of disgust had Ellie pulling an earbud out, just in time to hear the crunch of him taking some of her chips despite the judgement. Ellie craned her neck to peer over the top of the desk and glared at him.

"Hey! Don't eat my snacks!" She snapped. Nick recoiled slightly at her exclamation in over exaggerated shock.

"Is that any way to speak to the guy who just bought you coffee?" He gasped as he came around the side of the desk holding a tray of cups. Ellie slumped back into her original position, eyes moving from his face to the drinks. She smiled a wordless thank you and reached up for her cup as he passed it down.

"Where is everyone?" Nick asked as he distributed the other coffees to their respective desks. "And why are you in full _analyst-mode_?" He added as he came full circle and stood in front of her once more. Ellie's brows shot up.

"Analyst-mode?" She questioned, watching him over the lid of the coffee cup as she took a sip. He gestured to her cross legged position, the documents in front of her, and the computer on her lap. She recalled that Gibbs had only informed her of their case review when she'd come in that morning before disappearing with Vance.

"Cold cases." She supplied, causing Nick to grimace. "McGee isn't in yet. Gibbs is with the director."

"Man, I hate office work." He sighed as Ellie reached back and pushed a box of files towards his feet. Her only answer was a hum of acknowledgement as her focus dragged her back into the case in front of her.

She put the earbud back in, all noise drowned by her music, and hardly noticed as Nick sat down on the floor beside her. She might've wondered what the the once over he gave her with his eyes was all about, and might have been tipped off by the soft smile that followed it, had she seen either of these things. In fact, until his legs were stretching out in front of her, pressing into her knees and obscuring her view of the file she was reading, she really had thought he'd left.

Ellie looked up, fearing that until someone else came in, she wouldn't be getting any work done. She noted he was watching her with decidedly blank features.

"You're on my file..." She said slowly.

"Oh, sorry." He smirked, both of them knowing it had been intentional. She didn't know whether to smile or be annoyed.

"Help me finish this box." She tried, handing him a folder. He left it on his lap, clearly intent on not working. She had chalked Nick's office behavior up to a preference for undercover work. Now that she had seen him in both situations, she was confident that his constant need for her attention stemmed from an inability to sit still. What was chafing was that despite all of this, he seemed to get just as much work done as anyone else, maybe even more.

It being apparent that he would not move, Ellie dragged the case file out from under his outstretched legs and scooted so that she was beside him, barely registering the proximity as she leaned forward to pour over the file once more. She scarcely had a minute to refocus before Nick was poking her in the knee.

"Why _do_ you sit on the floor?" He inquired. She was about to tell him to either stop or go back to his desk, when Jack's voice interrupted.

"Anyone seen-" Sloane stopped short as she caught sight of the pair on the floor. Ellie leaned back against the desk, giving up on the file completely, and Nick laughed at the sight.

"Gibbs?" Ellie guessed.

"Yeah...Why-?" The psychologist gestured to her position on the floor, and had Ellie been watching, she might have seen the faintest of blushes creep up Nick's neck.

"Oh, I think better like this." Ellie informed her, again not noticing the slightly relieved look on Nick's face at her words.

"Yeah, me too." He said seriously behind her. Ellie turned over her shoulder to glare at him, knowing he was teasing her, as Jack came over and grabbed a folder from the box on the floor. Nick beamed back at his partner, and Ellie found herself smiling back before she could stop it. He at last opened his case file, apparently content, and and dropped her gaze to review it.

"Gibbs is with Vance." Ellie informed Sloane.

"I'll wait for him." She decided. She retreated back to her original position and pulled out Gibbs' chair to sit down. Instead of opening the folder in her hand she took a sip of coffee, seeming to consider the two of them, and Ellie couldn't help but be curious.

"Jack?" She prompted.

"You think better on the floor?" She questioned.

"I do. Nick-" Ellie began, about to point out that Nick didn't seem to be very focused at all, when Tim rounded the corner from the elevator. He dropped his bag by his desk and took in the three other agents.

"Cold cases?" He guessed. Nick leaned forward to the box and wordlessly handed the other man a file. Sloane had yet to do anything but stare, and Ellie returned to her folder again, the psychologists gaze making her a little nervous.

"Nick, _you_ focus better on the _floor_?" Jack pressed, seemingly fixated on the subject.

Ellie glanced back at her partner briefly, wondering if he would try to deny he was just trying to entertain himself by bothering her. If he had been caught off guard it didn't show, because he idly turned a page in the file he was supposedly reading.

"Yeah, I was just discussing this case with Bishop." He said evenly. Ellie resisted the urge to point out that he had said exactly one sentence about cold case files the entire time he'd been there.

"Actually Jack, Nick hangs out around Bishop's desk a lot." Tim supplied as he glanced over his monitor, apparently unable to resist a chance to make Torres squirm.

"What? I do not." Nick dismissed without so much as a glance at Tim. Ellie, who had never thought about how much time Nick seemed to spend on her end of the bullpen, considered his words for a moment.

"Wait, no, you do." Ellie realized aloud. Nick rolled his eyes, dropped the file onto his lap, and turned to glare at her.

"I don't mind." She qualified with a shrug. "Mostly."

His mouth twitched in the smallest of smiles, but he replaced it with a scowl.

"C'mon Nick. Just admit you refuse to sit at your desk." Tim prodded as Jack suppressed a smile.

"Refuse to work, more like it." Ellie added.

"Fine." Nick snapped, turning to Sloane in apparent defeat. "For your information, _guys_ , I'm just over here all the time to bother Reeves."

"What's up, mate?"

As a testament to Nick's unease, the former undercover agent startled as Clayton popped up from his desk and leaned against the partition. Ellie snorted a laugh at the sight, and Nick gave her a sarcastic smile. Jack seemed to be even more intrigued than before.

"Jumpy today?" Clayton smirked with a wink at Ellie. She smiled back in greeting at the Brit. Nick crossed his arms at the seemingly endless interrogation.

"What? No." He rushed.

Ellie took a glance at McGee over Nick's head, who had abandoned trying to focus on work altogether.

"Perfect timing, Clay." He said with a shake of his head.

"What's going on?" Clayton's laugh was curious.

"Does Torres get any work done?" McGee asked with mock seriousness. Nick's body language had gone back to calm, but he was staring at Clayton with a look that seemed to say: _help me_.

Clay swallowed a smile in favor of exaggerated sincerity.

"It's a wonder anyone gets any work done with him around." He replied. Then, with a curiously evil glance at Nick, Clay turned his attention to Ellie. "How do you do it, Ellie?"

"I'll never tell." She grinned before returning to her file. It was really quite lucky she hadn't seen Nick's jaw drop open, or the way Clay laughed just a little too hard at Nick's reaction. It could have told her a lot of things. Of course, it was unlucky that Jack had seen all of these things, and decided now was the best time to appear very interested in the file in her lap.

"Well, now you've just made it weird." Nick grumbled. He cast Clayton a glare of as he hauled himself off of the floor, a look that seemed to say a lot of things, and sat down at his desk.

Finally, Ellie could work.


	4. Just A Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Praying to whoever was listening that he wasn't make things worse, Nick decided to try and channel his inner Abby. Whatever that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags to 15x22. This changed so many times when I was writing it, but this version was entirely inspired by the line in the summary. Lemme know what you think :)

Ellie had wanted to be alone, Nick knew that, but he also knew better than to believe that was a good idea. If he was truly honest with himself, it wasn't appealing to him to be alone either. Of course, that was for an entirely different reason. Because Nick Torres was doing just fine.

Which was exactly his problem. His best friend had died, and he was just fine.

None of the team had been home since the shooting, instead taking their turns sleeping in autopsy and under their desks until the case was solved. In that time he had seen Bishop angrily kicking desks and vending machines, coming out of the bathroom with red rimmed eyes, and staring into space in a daze. Only God knew what was going through her mind, as she had been determinedly quiet about it since their brief talk at Clayton's desk. Despite his worry, Nick had been prepared to let Bishop be. After all, she was _Bishop._

Abby had other plans however. She had picked up on what Nick had observed in Ellie as well, and had made up her mind that the special agent was not to be alone after the case ended. She probably would have done it herself if she wasn't escorting Clayton's body, but she certainly made sure that the pair followed through with her orders.

_Abby closed the passenger door on Bishop's continued protests that she was fine, and then rounded on Nick._

_"Don't leave her, Nick." She commanded._

_"Abby, I'm not good at all this touchy-" He stopped at the goths glare. She took a step forward and grabbed both of his shoulders and closed her eyes, unnerving for Nick to say the least. She had, after all, locked him in her coffin. After a moment of her seeming to mutter something to herself, Abby reopened her eyes and fixed him with one of her stares._

_"Nick, channel your inner Abby." She said with no hint of humor. She was shoving him over to the drivers side of the car before he had a chance to even look confused._

So that was how he had ended up standing in the doorway of Ellie's apartment for the first time, admiring her skill in interior decorating.

"Nice place." He complimented, trying to break the icy demeanor his partner had adopted since he'd started the engine of his Jeep. Ellie shrugged and let the door close on its own behind them.

"I'll find you something for the couch." She informed him as she passed by, disappearing into the bedroom without another word. She was annoyed with him, simply because he was there, but Abby was someone you just didn't say no to.

He took in a few notebook sized paintings on the wall to distract himself. The feeling they gave him was somehow familiar, but Nick wasn't one for art and couldn't place it. Moving further into the apartment, he spotted a few picture frames. An older couple who must have been her parents. He grinned back at a little blonde girl in coveralls gripping her fathers hand tightly in one hand, and a massive fish by the mouth in the moved to sit on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms after the brief inspection, thoughts wandering despite his best efforts.

Sloane would have been a better companion for such a time as this, and he kicked himself for not reminding Abby of that in the parking garage. Nick couldn't deny that he and Bishop had become closer after going undercover, or that he wanted to help her, but he didn't think Bishop had ever seriously tried to confide anything in him. Plus, he usually deflected when things got too _emotional_.

Then there was that small matter of being completely fine. It wasn't that he _wanted_ to be an emotional wreck, a part of him was grateful for bypassing that, but it did worry him. Why was it that, after the anger had faded, he felt so normal? It wasn't like an undercover operation, where he had to move on immediately, and yet that seemed to have been exactly what had happened.

A huff of frustration pulled him out of his thoughts, and turned curiously towards the bedroom door. It was ajar, but all he could see was the foot of the bed inside.

"Bishop?" He called out. No response.

Then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

"Bishop? He tried again, pushing himself off of the couch and pushing the bedroom door open tentatively.

"You okay?" He asked. He noted the layout of the room on instinct. A bathroom in the far left corner, the bed in the path of the light spilling out of it, in the center of the room, barely visible in the gloom surrounding it. There was a dresser opposite the bed, it's smooth surface catching the light from the hall, and beyond that a decently sized closet. That was where his partner was standing on her tip toes in the half light, trying to reach something on the top rack of the closet.

"I thought for sure they were in here." Bishop growled. Her back was to him, and he got the feeling she was mostly talking to herself.

"Might help to turn on the lights..." He said slowly, finding the right switch and clicking them on. He watched her continue the search for a few moments until she stomped her foot, frustrated.

"You want some help?" He asked, taking a step into the room.

"I'm fine." She muttered.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Cause it seems like-"

"Leave me alone!" She snapped, spinning around to glare at him. He found himself caught off guard by her intensity, and to the surprise of them both Nick actually took a step back. The uncharacteristic action seemed to remind Bishop that he hadn't done anything to warrant her outburst.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, breaking eye contact. "Just thinking about..."

_Clayton._

He watched silently as she sat down on the far end of bed, facing away from him.

"Me too." He admitted, immediately feeling stupid for saying so. Of course she knew that. Ellie gave no indication of having heard him, though the apartment was completely silent, instead opting to flop onto her side and curl up on the mattress. The entire scene made Nick's stomach twist painfully.

"You can keep looking for them if you want. Maybe in the hall closet." She stated, her voice far too controlled for his liking, a clear message for him to leave before she started crying again. He was fairly certain he hadn't seen her like this since Paraguay, and he was absolutely certain he was still just as useless. Praying to whoever was listening that he wasn't make things worse, Nick decided to try and channel his inner Abby.

Whatever that meant.

He took a steadying breath and a hesitant step forward. He crossed the room to the bed slowly, fingers brushing the puffy comforter, pausing in case she blew up again. With hands on the mattress, he leaned over just enough that he could see her face over her shoulder on the opposite end of the bed. Her eyes were open, and she was glaring at the wall as if it was an interrogation subject.

Nick sat down on the opposite side of the bed and twisted around to look at her. After a moment of thought, he kicked off his shoes, brought his legs up and leaned against the headboard. He had a clearer view of her face before she tucked her head down and out of sight. He shifted a little closer.

"Bish-" He paused. " _Ellie..._ Look, I'm not good at this stuff, but-"

But nothing else came out. Her shoulder shuddered upwards as she took a deep breath, clearly fighting to stay in control until she was alone. Nick pushed through the familiar awkwardness that started to bubble up, determined now that he had made it this far, and wondered what he would want to hear if he was Ellie.

Then it all seemed so obvious.

"I won't say anything." He decided aloud. Though she didn't react to his promise, Nick could have sworn he felt some of the tension leave the room. He made good on it and sat in silence beside her, watching the back of her head. It seemed to be the right move, because she finally rolled over to look at him, and it was apparent she had been crying the entire time.

"Come on." He said gently, stretching out an arm towards her. Seeming to have given up on being tough for the night, Ellie closed the distance and curled up into his side almost immediately. She tucked her arms into his ribs, and he put an arm around her when she seemed to get comfortable. He never heard her cry, though he knew that she was, but he did feel her slowly relax into him.

After an immeasurable amount of time he thought she might have fallen asleep, he was halfway there himself, when she spoke at last.

"Why do good people keep dying?"

The question reminded him forcefully that he and Ellie did not have the same life experiences. She hadn't spent eight years watching good people die while undercover. Now in the time he'd known her, she'd had two people taken away rather violently. He tried to think of a good response, but knew that there wasn't one. Despite what he had seen, hell what he had _done_ , he'd been asking himself the same question for years.

"I wish I knew." He answered truthfully. Ellie tilted her head back to look up at him, perhaps she had truly hoped he'd have an answer. His eyes dropped to her lips for the briefest of moments despite himself, and he quickly looked away.

"Are _you_ okay?" She asked suddenly. He resisted the urge to pull away, reminding himself that he was perfectly fine and that it wasn't about _him_ anyways. He squeezed her shoulders a little.

"I'm here for you, B." He avoided. She gave him an odd look, maybe it was even angry, but seemed to decide it wasn't worth it to say anything, because she cuddled back into his side afterwards.

"Thank you." She muttered. "For taking me home."

"You're lucky. My chest is actually the best pillow." He grinned, knowing without seeing that she was rolling her eyes at his quip.

Neither agent remembered falling asleep, and both successfully convinced the other that they never wanted to wake up next to each other again the next morning.


	5. And Then One More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 16x02!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for how long this chapter has taken, for anyone who has been following the story. These are one shots, but I do intend to keep going with them, as they are loosely related!

Ellie looped an arm around Nick and all but hauled him to his feet. Her partner was out of it to say the least, she hardly remembered seeing him this hammered in all the time she'd known him, and her nose wrinkled at his familiar aftershave being overshadowed by the nauseating aroma of alcohol.

"How many did you have?" She asked when he leaned heavily on to her as she guided them through the door. Nick hiccuped, face screwed with confusion, as the door closed securely behind them.

"How many do you want?" He slurred, and she felt his hand starting to slide down her back towards-

"Let's get you some coffee." She said decisively, gripping his wandering appendage before it could move any further. Nick didn't object, and together they headed down the hall, up the stairwell, and before long she was depositing him with a huff at the breakfast bar portion of her kitchen. She watched him warily as he wobbled in the stool, and despite his drunken state, he seemed to feel her eyes on him.

"I'm fine, _Ellie_." Nick assured her with unfocused eyes. He leaned heavily against the counter top and hiccuped.

"Somehow I doubt that." She snorted, but moved off to the other side of the counter regardless, feeling his eyes on her even after turning to pull a couple mugs from the cabinet. When she turned around again, his eyes were closed and his head against the counter top, but he straightened slowly as the coffee began to brew.

"Thanks." He mumbled. "For listening."

"Nick, we aren't just coworkers." Ellie reminded him. He got an odd look on his face, as if he didn't understand. "I'm your friend..." She clarified.

"I know." He sighed after a breath, and for a moment Ellie thought she heard disappointment. She knew that this couldn't be the end of their conversation, not after this past week. The thought of Clay was still a white hot knife in the gut, and his murder had left her indifferent to almost everything but work. However, she hadn't gotten into a brawl, kicked off a case, or shown up plastered on anyone's doorstep. Nick needed to talk to someone.

He was starting to nod off however, head slipping in the hand he had it propped up with, and she knew it would be pointless. Just then, the machine beeped, and she poured a mug and set it out beside him.

"Here, drink up." Ellie instructed as she grabbed his free hand and pressed the mug into it. She watched his eyes jump to their hands, up her arm, to her face, to her lips...

Then she released his hand and headed towards the couch.

"You remember going undercover?" Nick asked just as she clicked the TV on. She muted it, smiling at the memory of her second dive into undercover work.

"Of course, Luis." She turned to look at him from over the back of the couch, surprised to find him sliding off the stool and onto his feet.. He teetered over to the couch and flopped down heavily beside her. An unwavering grin lit his features at the undercover name.

"Charlie." He replied, his gaze flickering over her again..

"Why?" She asked. Just their names were bringing back memories, and oddly enough none of them were related to the case. She wouldn't think too deeply on that.

"That guy, Donnie..."

"Yeah?"

"He said you were a 10." Nick recalled. "Like, really hot."

"Charlie does know how to dress up." Ellie smirked as she leaned back into the cushions.

"You're always a 10, B." Nick dismissed with a wave of his hand. Ellie felt a hot blush starting on her cheeks, trying to think of something that would deflect the conversation away from the subject smoothly, but Nick didn't seem to realize he had said it at all.

"But he said I was a _soft_ 7." He continued with a whine. Ellie snorted before she could stop herself, and Nick's indignant gaze snapped back onto her.

"Is that why you launched him through the windshield?" She ground out between giggles. He started to open his mouth to say something, when a buzzing started to come from his pocket.

"Oh! Gibbs." He exclaimed when he fumbled to pull his phone free. "Hey, _Jefe..._ Oh."

Ellie's eyebrows shot up, though she accepted the device from him regardless.

"Gibbs?" Ellie asked, getting up from the couch.

_"You good with him?"_

"Yeah, but how-" She stood and started for the hallway. Who knew what Gibbs was going to say.

_"My job to know, Bishop."_

"Right." She said. His sixth sense still unnerved her. "So, why did he come to me and not you?"

She thought she could hear Gibbs laughing on the other end.

" _Beats me. Call if you need me._ "

_Click._

Ellie glared at Gibbs contact photo, as if it would reveal the mans secrets. Her interrogation was short lived however as Nick all but barreled into her before disappearing into her bedroom.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Ellie called. "You're sleeping on the _couch_ this time!" His answer was a decidedly horrible splat at he missed the toilet and vomited all over the bathroom floor.

"Oh my God."

/

Ellie startled from sleep several hours later as a groan issued from within the bathroom. She rolled over, thought about ignoring it, until Nick groaned again. He was awake, and a glance at the time told her he was probably sober as well. She would be lying to herself if she didn't say she wasn't curious about what he would have to say for himself.

"Nick?" She called. She pulled off the covers and pressed her bare feet to the carpet.

"Why am I in your bathtub?" Nick moaned.

"Because you ruined my bathmat." Ellie replied, clicking on the light and blinking rapidly against the light. Nick's head and bent knees were visible above the rim of the tub. His eyes were focused, albeit bloodshot, and he groaned at the sudden brightness. She approached the rim of the tub as he started to stand, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Can I get out now?" He asked, gesturing to her position.

"You gonna hurl again?" She questioned, crossing her arms.

"I haven't thrown up for like, the whole night." He grumbled. "C'mon, B. My ass hurts."

"You can take the couch." Ellie stepped back so that he could clamber out, and she noted that he avoided her gaze as he brushed past her.

Nick went for the living room as she got an extra pillow and blanket for him. She decided she wasn't letting him off that easily, and thought about what she might say. After all, Nick wasn't usually the type to open up to _anyone_. She couldn't count the number of times he had brushed off her attempts to talk about Clay, or about anything that wasn't superficial for that matter.

However, her bathmat deserved answers.

By the time she made it back to the living room, Nick was already stretch out on the couch. He put his phone on the coffee table as she approached.

"We need to talk." Ellie informed him as she tossed him the extra bedding and seated herself on the arm of the couch. Nick's eyes widened slightly, and she caught the unmistakable flicker of unease cross through them, though it vanished quickly.

"About?" His voice was innocent, and if she didn't know him, she might've said he truly didn't remember. She'd heard Nick recall enough things he'd done when they'd had a night of drinking to know better.

"You got kicked off the case." Ellie scoffed.

"Is that what happened?" He avoided.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" She pressed, now glaring at him.

"Maybe because how I feel is none of your business?" He growled, holding her gaze with an equally heated one.

"What is it with this lone wolf _crap,_ Nick?" She hissed "We're supposed to be a team. That means on everything."

"What would talking about it have solved?" He fired back, now sitting up. "He's already dead."

She felt the knife in her gut twist again at his harsh reminder.. Tonight had been the first time they'd talked about Clay since before Afghanistan. She admitted that she had been starting to think Nick Torres really _didn't_ do emotions. She turned away from him with crossed arms, and the former undercover agent seemed to regret his words.

"I...I'm sorry." He stated, mirroring her position of facing the darkened TV screen.

"Why are you here?" She asked after a few moments of painful silence, turning her head to look at him again. His eyes flickered over her for a moment, as if sizing her up, and an uncharacteristic look of hesitation crossed over his features. She held her tongue, feeling like she was in some kind of odd interrogation, and knowing that he was about to break. He knew it, too.

He let go with visible effort, and an unnerving lack of eye contact.

"The last time I was here..." He started off, and she recalled immediately his warm embrace and gentle words. Another side of him she hadn't known he'd had.

Ellie nodded for him to continue.

"I've been thinking about...that." He gave her a pointed look.

"Which part?" She encouraged. He shook his head.

"I thought maybe Sloane was right. About talking to someone." He said, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"But you couldn't talk to Sloane?" She questioned.

"Oh, c'mon Bishop, work with me here." He groaned. She glared at that.

"Give me something to work with, then?" She retorted.

"I was drunk! Besides, it's easier to talk to someone when you-" He paused, and she noted with surprise the blush creeping up his neck.

"When what?" Now it really was feeling like an interrogation. He was holding something back

"When you've been undercover with them." He finished rather lamely. "Easier to trust them."

Ellie knew immediately it wasn't what he had been about to say, but she still felt a surprising amount of satisfaction at his admission. He was, after all, saying he trusted her the most out of anyone.

"I think that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Torres." She smiled. He caught her gaze, a relieved look washing over him.

"Yeah, well don't let it go to your head." He quipped with a smirk. She snorted a laugh, and the familiar banter seemed to relax him.

"Wanna watch something?" He asked, snatching the remote from between them and waggling it between his fingers. She knew he wasn't quite ready to say goodnight. She assented with a grin and scooted closer so she could put her feet up onto the coffee table.

"Trying to cuddle up to me, huh?" He grinned, propping his feet up next to hers, and she resisted the urge to lean into him. Her next question slipped out before she could stop herself.

"Did it help?" She asked. "Talking?"

She felt him tense, and she risked leaning in just a little bit, relieved when he didn't pull away.

"I...might try it again." He decided, moving so that their legs were pressed more firmly against each other. Finally, things were starting to feel alright again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


End file.
